


Mending the Rift

by GallifreyisBurning



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Episode Fix-It: s04e13 Journey's End, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Season/Series 04 AU, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-07 23:52:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14682114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallifreyisBurning/pseuds/GallifreyisBurning
Summary: The Doctor left Rose and the Metacrisis in Pete’s World to live out a human life, returning to the prime universe to wipe Donna’s memory and continue on alone. Rose has something to say about that, and uses the dimension hoppers to return to the Doctor and set things right before the universes are separated for good. However, once she’s back, she finds it harder than expected to trust the man who sent her away so many times. Can the damage of the Doctor’s impulsive decision be undone?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! This is my very first fic, so I super welcome your feedback! I’ve been pissed at Ten for years for ditching Rose in Pete’s World with the Metacrisis Doctor without so much as giving her a choice, so after reading an absurd number of other episode fix-its, I decided to give my own version a go. My chapters are short, but it’s because I’m posting them as soon as I write them so I hope I’ll be forgiven! Thanks for reading!
> 
> This is un-betaed and mostly unedited, so all errors are my own.
> 
> I obviously own nothing related to Doctor Who or its characters.

**Chapter 1**

Rose was standing on a beach, between two men who were identical and yet... not. The sky was grey, and a chilly wind wound its way around them. Nearby, her mother stood watching, arms wrapped around herself to ward against the cold. 

“I love you,” the second man whispered into her ear, and then she was kissing him, pulling him down by his lapels, lips pressed desperately to his in relief and thanks for the words she’d been waiting so long to hear. He wasn’t the Doctor, not really, and yet that voice, that face… she could almost accept it, almost believe it.

The kiss lasted only a few moments, and yet in those moments, her future was decided. The first man had silently walked away and closed a door. Behind her, she heard the all-too-familiar sound of the TARDIS dematerializing. She whipped around, hands falling from the Metacrisis Doctor’s jacket, eyes wide with shock and betrayal. Mickey had said that this would happen, but she’d sworn he was mistaken. She’d had faith; she’d believed that the Doctor had changed. She’d been wrong.

“Oh no you don’t, you stupid bloody alien,” she growled, her shock turning quickly to anger. _Thank god for Mickey,_ she thought. It was his distrust that would save her. When she got back to her proper universe, she’d have to find him to say thanks. After dealing with the Doctor, that was.

The Metacrisis was looking at her in regret and resignation, but his expression quickly morphed into confusion and concern as she grumbled under her breath and rummaged through her jacket pockets. After a moment, she produced a large, round, yellow button on a string. “Put this on,” she instructed the Metacrisis, shoving it roughly into his hands. “Mum, give me your dimension hopper!” Jackie, who was still hovering silently nearby, handed an identical yellow button over, looking sad but not surprised. She held onto her daughter’s hand briefly.

“I love you sweetheart,” she said on a sigh. “When you find that idiot, give him a smack from me.” She smiled slightly.

“I love you too, Mum,” Rose replied, pulling her mother in for a brief, tight hug, “and trust me, when I find that man I’m going to smack him so hard he regenerates. I don’t care how pretty he was this time around.” Her mother made a sound between a laugh and a sob, wrapping her arms around herself again as if to hold her heart in place, and nodded at her daughter, a few tears escaping from her eyes despite her attempts to stay strong. “Goodbye, my Rose. Stay safe.”

"Goodbye," Rose returned with a sad smile before turning away and back towards the man standing by her side.

The Metacrisis had stood silent during this exchange, turning the dimension hopper in his hands, eyebrows pulled together in concern. He looked up now as Rose turned to him.

“Well? Are you coming or not? If so, put that thing on. The rift will be closed soon, we don’t have time to waste.” Her voice was rough and angry. The Metacrisis grimaced.

“Rose, are you sure this is what you want?” he asked quietly.

“Kind of you to care now, after making the decision without me not two minutes ago,” she scoffed, glaring at him. “You don’t know the whole story, and neither did he. I made my choice years ago, and I’m not about to change it just because he’s got the universe’s most absurd martyr complex.” She shoved her dimension hopper over her head and placed her left hand over the button. Her right hand she reached out to him, raising an eyebrow. With only a moment’s hesitation more, the Metacrisis slipped his own hopper over his head and laced his fingers through hers.

“On the count of three,” Rose directed, meeting his eyes. “One, two…” and before Jackie’s tearfilled eyes, the two blinked out of existence.

*******************

 

They landed roughly on a London street corner, still scattered with debris from the recent Dalek occupation. It was raining lightly. Rose stood up straight and dropped the Metacrisis’ hand, glancing around to get her bearings.

“Where would he go now?” she asked the Metacrisis after a moment. Her tone was businesslike, but edged with anger; her eyes flinty. The Metacrisis stared at his feet and rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Donna’s,” he said quietly, “he’ll be at Donna’s. She...” he trailed off. Chancing a glance up at her through the drizzle, he saw Rose watching him intently, eyebrow slightly raised again, waiting for him to keep going. He looked back down and grimaced. “The metacrisis, it wasn’t… she can’t… it’ll have been too much for her. I’ll...he’ll have had to wipe her memories. Everything since she met me.”

“What?!” exclaimed Rose, startled.

“She’s got a Time Lord’s consciousness in her head now,” the Metacrisis explained sadly. “Her brain isn’t designed to handle it. She’ll burn.” Rose’s eyes narrowed at the phrasing. It jostled long-hidden memories deep within her subconscious. Swirls of gold dust, and a fire behind her eyes. _You looked into the Time Vortex, Rose. Nobody is supposed to see that...you’ve got the entire Vortex running through your head… you’re gonna burn!_

“I am the Bad Wolf,” she murmured. The Metacrisis’ eyes shot up to her face.

“What?!”

“Bad Wolf,” she repeated, wiping damp hair off her forehead. “I became the Bad Wolf. I killed the Daleks. The Vortex was inside of me, and I was gonna burn." She gazed off into the distance for a moment, remembering. "But I didn’t. You took it out. You kissed me, and you took the Vortex, and you saved me, and you died.”

“You aren’t supposed to remember that,” the Metacrisis responded dazedly. “Those memories were gone. Locked.”

“Like Donna’s will be?” He dropped his gaze.

“Yes.”

“So why could you save me, but not her? What’s one little Time Lord in comparison to the entire Time Vortex? She saved the world, just like me. So why won’t you save her?” Her voice was disbelieving; disapproving.

“I AM saving her! We are!” he shot back. “She can’t remember us! It’s not safe!”

“That’s bollocks and you know it! I lost minutes, not years, because you took the Vortex out of me. You DIED to save me. Do you seriously think she’s worth any less?” The volume of her voice had risen as the rainfall increased steadily from a drizzle to a downpour. The Metacrisis scrubbed a hand down his face, looking agonized.

“I'll...he'll... he'll die.” he whispered, sounding broken and ashamed, “he'll die, and he's been this man for such a short time and he isn't ready. We don’t want to go.” He looked up at her, eyes full of tears beneath his now sodden bangs, begging her to understand.

“Tough.” Rose crossed her arms. “You have... he has... more lives to live. She doesn’t. You don’t get to wipe the best years of her life from existence because you’re scared, or because you think you deserve to be alone. It’s not your choice to make. Now get us to Donna’s, and figure out how to fix this. She’s your best mate. She saved you. You owe her this.” He stared at her in silence for five seconds… ten... finally, the Metacrisis shoved his fists into his pants pockets and nodded. Turning on his heel, he began to trudge through the deluge toward the Noble residence. Rose followed silently, and together they disappeared into the downpour.

On their way, eventually, they talked.

*******************

 

Dripping wet, the Doctor stared at the now closed front door of the Noble residence, where he had just left behind the best friend he’d had in centuries, with absolutely no memories of who he was or their time together. He turned slowly and walked away, toward the TARDIS. The thought of the empty time ship caused his hearts to clench painfully. Just this morning, it had been full of life… the family he had built for himself over the past few years. The army, Davros had called them. All of those lives warped by him; by his incessant need to save them. In the end, all he ever did was destroy. It was better that they had left him behind. Maybe without him, they could find peace.

Pushing the air from his lungs in a tired sigh, he slipped his key into the TARDIS’ door and pushed it open. He slid inside and turned to close the familiar blue door behind himself. Before he could, however, it pushed back open with a bang, wood bouncing off the coral of the console room’s wall. The Doctor’s eyes widened in shock as he took in the furious face of a dripping wet blonde who he thought he was destined never to see again. Her eyes blazed. Her fists were clenched. The Doctor couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

“You and I,” she seethed, fury radiating from her, “are gonna be having some words.” Involuntarily, he backed away from the livid young woman. She pushed through the door, dripping onto the grating, and continuing her tirade: “Very, VERY soon. But first, you and HIM are gonna go save Donna.” Her words were accompanied by a thrust of her thumb back over her shoulder, causing the Doctor to finally rip his eyes from hers. Looking over her right shoulder, he saw a very chagrined, thoroughly chastised-looking Metacrisis standing awkwardly in the rain, just outside the door. Their eyes met, and the Metacrisis grimaced at him.

“We need to talk.”

*******************

 

The three of them sat around the kitchen table in the galley an hour later, half empty cups of tea growing cold in front of them. Rose’s arms were once again crossed as she leaned back in her chair, staring slightly over the heads of the two men, jaw clenched. The Doctor and the Metacrisis sat facing each other, both looking stubborn and furious.

“It will KILL you!” the Doctor shouted at his double, hands pulling desperately at his hair. “Don’t you understand that?! You’re not a Time Lord anymore, not fully. If you take that part of her back, you’ll die!”

“So what?!” the Metacrisis shot at him. “I’ve been alive less than 24 hours! I’m NOT EVEN A WHOLE PERSON. I’m like a PHOTOCOPY of you. And a bad one, at that.” He grimaced at how his single heart had sped up as he yelled. He took a deep breath. “Look, I barely have any experiences of my own to speak of, and anyway, you thought I was too dangerous to be kept around to begin with,” he sighed, his voice calmer. “You should be happy about this.” The Doctor stared at him in disbelief.

“Happy?” he spit. “HAPPY?! I left you in another universe to spend your lovely, simple, human life with the woman we love and you dragged her back across dimensions to commit suicide and you thought I’d be HAPPY?!”

“Oi!” Rose barked, eyes snapping back to the two Doctors. “Seriously?! First off, what, NOW you love me? Now, after abandoning me on another world without so much as a goodbye, after I spent three years fighting to get back to you? I don’t BLOODY well think so. And secondly, DRAGGED ME BACK?! You’ve got to be FUCKING kidding me. I make my own choices, you condescending git. AND FINALLY, a ‘lovely, simple, human life’? Your arrogance is ASTOUNDING. You have NO IDEA what my life has been since I got stuck in Pete’s World, and you have no idea what I want now. You made that choice without so much as ASKING me what I wanted, or why. Do you have ANY idea what you almost damned me to? Any idea at all?” as her rant progressed, Rose’s voice began to thicken with tears. She rolled her eyes back, trying to keep them from spilling down her face. The Doctor looked at her in shock and concern.

“Besides,” the Metacrisis interrupted, “it’s not suicide. You’ll keep on living, just as you always have. As you were so quick to point out at Bad Wolf Bay, I’m you. We’re the same person. We can save Donna, and we can stay us, and we can keep Rose. This is for the best.” Rose snorted at the phrase “keep Rose.” Although she’d been very sure this morning that she wanted to be with this man forever, she wasn’t feeling particularly Happily Ever After at the moment. The Doctor looked pained.

“But your lifespans,” he started,

“Are something the two of you will need to discuss later,” the Metacrisis finished for him. “Rose and I talked on our way over here, and you’ve got some serious catching up to do. But if you really don’t want me to sacrifice myself for Donna -- which, by the way, I’m more than willing to do, now that I’ve had some time to consider our options -- you could always do it yourself. Sure, you’d have to regenerate, but we’ve done it before. We’ll manage.” The Metacrisis raised an eyebrow and the Doctor dropped his gaze in defeat. They both knew he wasn’t ready to give up this visage just yet. He dared a side glance at Rose, suddenly wondering about the ominous ‘discuss later’ his double had so casually thrown at him, but Rose was now staring at the wall, determinedly avoiding either man’s gaze.

“Fine,” the Doctor spit, after an uncomfortable silence. “Save her. Save Donna. Just…” he closed his eyes momentarily, then looked up and met his double’s gaze. “Just go now, before I can change my mind. Tell her granddad send her back to the TARDIS when she wakes up, and I’ll explain.” The Metacrisis nodded soberly and stood up. He rested his hand briefly on Rose’s shoulder. Without looking up, she covered it with her own, grasping it tightly as she closed her eyes and pressed her lips together, silencing her sobs as tears dripped down her cheeks. She released him, and he walked out of the galley and toward the console without looking back. Rose’s head dropped into her hands and she let out a choked sob, slumping forward, her elbows on the table. The Doctor reached out for her.

“Rose,” he whispered, but she flinched back from his touch.

“Don’t.” she rasped. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she pushed back from the table and exited the room.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna is saved. The Metacrisis lives. Rose and the Doctor have a chat.

**Chapter 2**

They should all have known it wouldn’t be quite that easy. It had been less than ten minutes before the Metacrisis came back through the TARDIS door, yelling exasperatedly for the Doctor. From her room, where she’d been hiding out, Rose could hear the Doctor’s jogging footsteps and then bits of the Metacrisis’ rant. She couldn’t make out everything, but the bits and pieces she could painted a fairly clear picture.

“Sylvia…. won’t let me near her… doesn’t believe… I told them but… Wilf…” Rose heard the Doctor grumble irritatedly in reply, and then two sets of retreating footsteps before the TARDIS door banged closed again. Rose unfolded herself from the floor, where she’d been sitting cross legged, unable to bear to sit on her old bed quite yet, and slowly opened her bedroom door. When she was sure she couldn’t hear anyone else in the TARDIS, she took a deep breath and ventured out into the hall. Earlier, with all the chaos, she hadn’t really had a chance to appreciate being back in the ship. Between the Doctor’s almost-regeneration, their kidnap by the Daleks, the sudden appearance of the Metacrisis Doctor, the chaotic rescue, and the frenetic party atmosphere as they had returned all of the Doctor’s friends to their respective homes, she’d barely had a second to process how it felt to be back here in the impossible sentient box she’d called home for two years. Then, before she could even think of adjusting to her much anticipated return, she’d been unceremoniously dropped back off in another universe. 

The quiet hum of the TARDIS’s psychic presence buzzed calmingly at the back of Rose’s head, welcoming her and allowing her to breathe comfortably in a way she hadn’t been able to in years. The air in Pete’s World had never felt quite right to her, and after years spent jumping in and out of the Time Vortex in the TARDIS, she’d had trouble sleeping without the subtle presence of the ship in her head. She closed her eyes and trailed her fingers along the TARDIS’ wall before wandering deeper into the ship, toward the library, where she’d spent so many hours before being lost beyond the void.  

The room looked just as she’d last seen it: worn, burgundy velvet sofa in front of a large fireplace, walls lined with dark wooden shelves, rolling ladders reaching up to the highest levels of books, rows upon rows of somewhat lower shelves filled with texts of every description: small as a postage stamp or large as a card table; covered in old worn leather or cheap mass market earth paperback or shiny, holographic plastic of some sort. The low table in front of the sofa still held the battered copy of  _ Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy _ that she and the Doctor had been taking turns reading aloud to each other before Canary Wharf. She supposed that meant that he hadn’t used this room much in the time since she’d gone. Rose curled herself into the corner of the sofa, resting her head on the armrest and closing her eyes. The room was dim and quiet and familiar, and despite the thousand urgent and troubling things running through her head, she found herself drifting off, exhausted by the day’s events. 

*******************

 

Rose wasn’t sure how long it had been when she began to come back to herself. Her eyes still closed, she took note of the fact that she felt warm and snug; shifting slightly, she realized that someone had tucked a blanket up over her while she slept. Blearily, she opened her eyes and noticed first that the fireplace had been lit, and second that she was not alone. The Doctor (or the Metacrisis, but she assumed the Doctor based on the brown suit) sat on the floor near her feet, leaning back on the sofa, one leg extended in front of him and the other folded up, trainer-clad foot braced on the soft oriental rug as he gazed into the fire. 

“Hello,” Rose murmured sleepily. This soon after waking, it was hard to summon up her rage from earlier. She still wasn’t sure where they stood, or where she wanted them to, but his distant stare and slight frown reminded her of the events that had taken place before her nap, and she realized that she cared more about finding out what had happened than about yelling at him right this minute. 

The Doctor startled slightly at her voice, but didn’t look at her, instead keeping his eyes focused on the fire.

“Hello,” he answered softly.

“How long have I been asleep?” she asked, rubbing her eyes.

“Not sure. But I’ve been back for about four hours, so I suppose at least as long as that.”

“What happened to Donna?” Rose asked, after realizing that he wasn’t going to volunteer the information.

“She’s fine. She’s resting. We couldn’t let her keep the memories of defeating the Daleks, but we filled her in on the relevant details.” He smiled slightly. “She was quite smug about it, actually. More than a little peeved at me for trying to wipe her memories, though.”

Rose snorted. “I’ll bet,” she said, shifting slightly to sit up and running a hand through her hair. “I’m surprised you told her, honestly.”

“Weeeelllll.” The Doctor looked uncomfortable. “Honestly, I didn’t want to, but I didn’t think that Sylvia would keep it to herself. Rather have it all out in the open now then deal with it later when she ratted me out. Donna’s smack is almost as formidable as Jackie’s.” 

Rose smirked at his honestly, trying to ignore the twinge in her chest at the thought of her mother. As her brain began to wake more fully, she started to process more of what he’d said.  

“Hang on,” she mused, “you said ‘we.’ ‘WE’ filled her in. There’s still two of you?” The Doctor grimaced. 

“Yeah,” he stated dully. “He’s fine, too. He’s… taking a little time. Figuring out what happens next.” 

“So it didn’t hurt him, taking the Time Lord consciousness out of Donna?”

“Nah. Turns out he was perfectly equipped to deal with it. We didn’t exactly get a chance to run any tests before…” he trailed off awkwardly, but then picked back up. “But it turns out that his physiology is more similar to mine than we guessed, or so it seems. At least when it comes to his brain. So he’s no worse for the wear, as it were. Just your run of the mill human/Time Lord hybrid.” He gave a half smile that held no joy. Rose leaned against the arm rest and glared at him, somewhat halfheartedly. 

“You’re such an idiot,” she muttered without fire. “I can’t believe you wiped Donna’s mind without even CONSIDERING your options. You’re always so quick to assume that the worst option is the only one.” She didn’t have the energy to be fully angry about it, at least not right now, now that everything had more or less worked out. The Doctor flinched at her words, but didn’t answer. Rose sighed. 

“So what do you mean, figuring out what happens next?”

“Well, it’s a bit unprecedented, having two Doctors. Concurrently, anyway. I’ve crossed paths with myself here and there over the years, but it’s always just been me. We’re not entirely sure how having both of us here would work.” 

“You’ve given him the option to stay, then?” Rose asked, “Rethought that whole ‘he committed genocide and can’t be trusted’ thing?” The Doctor continued staring into the low flames, looking pained.

“Yeah… he uh… had a few words with me about that. Mentioned some things about the Time War and Racnoss and Satellite Five. Seemed to think I might have been a bit hypocritical with that particular judgement call.” Rose rolled her eyes, although he couldn’t see it, and declined to respond. They sat in silence for several minutes, looking into the fire together, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, the Doctor spoke again, so quietly that Rose barely heard him at first.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, still not looking at her. Rose closed her eyes. 

“Please don’t.” she answered softly. “Not yet. Let’s just sort out this thing with the other Doctor first, yeah? I’m not ready to talk about the rest of it yet.” The Doctor nodded resignedly, as though he had expected nothing different, and unfolded himself from the floor, glancing at her as he stood.  

“I’m going to go find him and see if he’s come to any conclusions on what he wants to do now. Come find us when you’re ready, okay?” Rose nodded. The Doctor walked slowly toward the library door, hands in pockets. As he reached the door, he turned back briefly, meeting her eyes. 

“I’m so glad that you’re home, Rose,” he said quietly, before exiting and walking quickly away without giving her time to respond. Rose closed her eyes and took a slow, deep breath in and out before she picked up the book from the coffee table. She stroked her hand over the cover gently, but didn’t open it. Instead, she kept watching the fire until it had burned down to cinders.

*******************


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Metacrisis makes a choice. The Doctor finds out the truth about Rose, and what his arrogance almost cost her.

**Chapter 3**

Eventually, Rose realized that putting off talking to the Doctors was not going to do her much good. She was furious and heartbroken and exhausted, and she didn’t really want to have any of the conversations that needed to happen, but she knew she wasn’t going to be able to sort it out on her own. The Doctor had betrayed her trust, sending her away against her will over and over again, and yet she still loved him so desperately. She didn’t want to leave, she had promised him she never would, and yet she wasn’t sure she could stay, either. 

And then, there was the matter of the Metacrisis Doctor. Her conversation with him on the walk to the TARDIS had convinced her that he was, indeed, still the Doctor - for the most part, anyway. The remnants of Donna Noble in his psyche seemed to have given him a slightly more human way of interacting, interpersonally. After she’d yelled at him in the street, he’d seemed cowed, and had actually listened without interrupting. He’d listened as she told him of her life in Pete’s World, of her time at Torchwood, and about the physiological changes that had begun to become apparent during her years there. It had been a relief, in some ways, to see his distress, and to hear his apologies, once he realized what had happened. Yet she knew, somehow, that the conversation had only been possible for her because she didn’t really think of him as her Doctor. Even still, letting him go off to face his death had been harder than she’d expected, and she’d found herself relieved to hear he’d survived and was mentally intact. Now, however, she had no idea what they would all do. Donna was presumably going to stay with them on the TARDIS as well, now that she had her memories back. What next, then? Rose Tyler, two Doctors, and Donna, on the TARDIS, as it should be? 

Sighing and running her hand through her hair, Rose unfolded herself from the sofa and placed her still unopened book back on the table. Reluctantly, she headed out to find the two Doctors. After silently asking the TARDIS for guidance and wandering down the hall, once again trailing her fingers along the coral wall, Rose found herself at a door she hadn’t seen before. It was a heavy wooden thing, carved with the circular symbols that she recognized as the language of the Doctor’s people, the one language the TARDIS was never willing to translate. The door was cracked open slightly, but Rose could hear nothing from inside, so she knocked softly. 

“Come in,” the Doctor’s voice answered immediately. 

Pushing the door open and stepping inside, Rose found herself in what she assumed must be the Doctor’s bedroom. It was simple - a comfortable looking bed with a navy bedspread and white sheets that looked mussed, as though they had been pulled up hastily but the owner had not bothered to properly make up the bed. A wooden desk, covered in miscellaneous electronic pieces and metal bits and bobs. A closed door with a full length mirror on its back, which Rose assumed led to the en suite. And finally, a wardrobe, whose door was currently open as the Metacrisis Doctor in his blue suit rummaged inside. The Time Lord Doctor sat against the headboard of the bed, one leg bent, one stretched out, arms folded. The Metacrisis looked as though he had been transferring various items of clothing into a travel bag that sat at the bed’s end. Both Doctor’s looked at Rose as she entered, however, the Metacrisis ceasing his packing.

“Hi,” Rose murmured uncertainly, glancing from one Doctor to the other.

“Hello,” said the Metacrisis. The Doctor on the bed nodded in greeting and attempted to hold her eye contact, but Rose quickly looked back at the other man, clearing her throat.

“So,” she said, “it looks like you’ve decided what you’re doing, then?”

“Yeah,” he said, turning to face her fully and putting his hands in his pockets in an oh-so-familiar gesture, “I’m going to start over on Earth. Live a life on the slow path, as it were.” Rose bit her lip.

“Won’t you… I mean, won’t you miss the TARDIS? Travelling? I can’t really imagine you staying in one place.”

“I was going to before, in Pete’s World. It won’t be the first time I’ve had to stay put for awhile. Maybe it’s time to stop running. And anyway...” his sentence petered out and he shrugged noncommittally. Rose waited, but he didn’t go on.

“And anyway?” she asked, finally.

“And anyway,” the Doctor on the bed answered, “he won’t remember the TARDIS, or being the Doctor.” The Metacrisis turned back to the wardrobe, refusing to meet Rose’s confused gaze, and continued to pack.

“What?” she asked, confused and slightly horrified, “How? Doctor, what are you going to do to him?” The Doctor sighed.

“There’s this device, on the TARDIS, for emergencies. It’s called a Chameleon Arc. As an absolute last resort, when a Time Lord is in so much danger that even  _ they _ are not safe with the knowledge of their own existence, it can be used to rewrite their biology. Make them into whatever species they require to blend in. Give them a false set of memories; a new life. Let them hide in plain sight.” Rose’s consternation rose.

“So you’re just going to… what, rewrite his brain? Re-record his consciousness? Make him someone else?” The look on her face was pure horror at the idea. “How could you do that to him?” The Doctor looked pained, but the Metacrisis was the one who answered.

“It’s my choice,” he said quietly. “We can’t both stay here. I can’t stay here, knowing myself to be the Doctor and yet stuck in this human body, aging while he doesn’t, always faced with the person I was, the person I should have been, thought of as… other.” Rose opened her mouth to speak but he cut her off. “Don’t say you wouldn’t, because you know you would. And so would he. And I can’t bear it, I really can’t. I’m half human already anyway. This is the best chance for me to be happy. I can start over somewhere, be a professor or a proper doctor or… I don’t know. An astronaut?” He smiled sadly and Rose couldn’t help but return the gesture, her horror fading to resignation as she realized his predicament. 

“There is another way,” the Doctor spoke up from the bed. “You could still go with him. He could keep his memories, and you could grow old together, like I meant you to. Get a mortgage. Carpets. Take the slow path together.” His face showed very little, but his voice carried an undertone of challenge. Rose refocused her attention on him, glaring, her anger beginning to boil back up.

“No, I couldn’t,” she told him coldly.

“Why?” he asked her, pressing, his eyes meeting hers, daring her to tell him. He’d been brooding on the earlier comment on lifespans, and he had suspicions that the Metacrisis had refused to confirm.  _ It’s hers to tell you or not, _ the infuriating man had told him. 

Rose, her anger and frustration and betrayal and heartbreak, all of which had been simmering just under the surface, looking for an outlet, finally broke at his provocation.

“BECAUSE I’M NOT BLOODY AGING, ALRIGHT?” she yelled at him, eyes blazing. Her face was suddenly flushed and her breathing hectic. Running both hands through her hair she let out a sound somewhere between a yell and a loud exhale and slumped backwards onto the bedroom door, sliding to the ground, elbows finding her knees and her head staying in her hands, fingers in her hair, eyes closing. “My cells keep repairing themselves. I’m not getting any older.”

The Doctor’s eyes opened wide with shock. It was one thing to guess, but another to hear it aloud. “How?” he asked, quietly, now that the outburst had passed.

“I don’t know,” she answered tiredly, her muffled voice directed toward the floor. “The Doctors at Torchwood noticed it when the injuries I got on missions healed more quickly than they should. They did some tests, and apparently my cells regenerate at a rate that is far, FAR above normal for a human. Their best guess, when I asked, was that barring accident I could live hundreds of years - maybe thousands.” Her head fell back against the door, eyes closing, hands sliding down her denim-clad thighs. “It was good that Pete had a few doctors he could trust there, who were willing to keep it quiet. Otherwise I suspect I would have ended up in a lab somewhere. As it was, I wouldn’t have been able to hide it forever. People were bound to notice that I wasn’t visibly aging at some point.” She paused for a moment. “Now that my memories are starting to come clear, I suspect it has something to do with the Time Vortex and Bad Wolf. You did say no human could survive that.” The Doctor on the bed started, looking up at his doppelganger in shock at the revelation that Rose was remembering bits of her time on Satellite 5. The Metacrisis just nodded at him in silent confirmation, no surprise in his expression, so the Doctor looked back toward Rose.

She opened her eyes, looking back at the Doctor, sadness radiating from her face. 

“So you see, I can’t stay with him. Not because I’m not willing to watch him die, but because no matter how much I grew to love him, I’d eventually have to leave. Ironic, that.” The Metacrisis was leaning against the wardrobe door, watching his double quietly. He had already heard all of this on the walk to the TARDIS; it had been the deciding factor in his decision to leave, and to rewrite himself. He couldn’t go on, couldn’t settle down on Earth and live a human life, without Rose Tyler. Not as himself, anyway. It was up to his Time Lord self now.

Said Time Lord was still staring at Rose in shock, his mind visibly churning as he processed the implications of what he had just learned; implications that he hadn’t allowed himself to fully consider before he heard her confirm his suspicions. As realization dawned, he choked on a gasp. “Oh god,” he whispered.

“Now he’s gettin’ it,” Rose muttered, looking away. 

“Oh god Rose, I… I left you there and… oh god. How could I have…” he stared at her in horror. “I’m sorry. Rose, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t….” His voice broke. Rose laughed harshly.

“Hurts, doesn’t it? Having to see the aftermath. Realizing things don’t always end happily ever after for the ones you leave behind, no matter how much you want to pretend. Turns out you don’t always know what’s best for everyone else, all things considered.” She got to her feet, brushing her hands on her jeans. Then, she addressed the Metacrisis. “I’m sorry you were the collateral damage in all of this,” she told him sadly. He nodded at her, lips in a firm line, his expression a mix of sympathy and resignation. “When will you leave?” she asked him.

“As soon as I finish packing, we’ll use the Arc,” the Metacrisis told her. “Then, the Doctor will drop me off. England is too risky, too many people know me there, so we’re thinking perhaps Scotland. The TARDIS will set me up with a good backstory and the skills and resources I need to get started. I’ll be fine. Probably happy, even. I hope you will be too. Someday.” He smiled at her slightly, and she nodded at him. Impulsively, she crossed the room and wrapped him in a tight embrace. 

“Good luck,” she whispered as his arms came around her back. He rested his head on the top of hers for a moment, breathing her in, and then let her go. A look of understanding passed between them as their arms slid away from each other, and then Rose turned to leave the room. The Doctor opened his mouth as though to speak, but the Metacrisis shook his head at his double and the second man acceded to the unspoken command, shutting his mouth. Without looking at either man again, Rose exited the room, leaving the door open behind her as she walked away.    
  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Donna have a chat about the Doctor, leading Rose to consider her options.

**Chapter 4**

Rose had expected that telling the Doctor the truth would in some way leave her feeling vindicated or powerful, but instead she just felt mentally exhausted while simultaneously physically keyed up. The intense emotions which had flooded her just moments before had left her feeling jittery and anxious. Not particularly wanting company, and needing some sort of outlet for her energy, Rose found herself back in her old bedroom, rooting through the closet for a swim suit. Having finally unearthed an old one piece that wasn’t overly loose on her frame, which was now somewhat leaner and more muscular than it had been before her years of Torchwood training, she quickly changed, tied her hair back into a braid, and made her way to the TARDIS’s swimming pool.

Swimming laps was an activity that Rose had taken up in Pete’s world when she needed to clear her mind. The physical exertion of pulling herself through the water, as well as the repetition of the movements, simultaneously exhausted her muscles and lulled her overactive mind, soothing her and enabling her to eventually sleep. Today, as Rose swam laps back and forth across the Olympic sized pool, she allowed herself to focus only on the swish of her limbs in and out of the cool water, its resistance against her body, and the regular pattern of her breaths. After what felt like hours, Rose finally surfaced at the end of the pool nearest the exit, winded and tired, seeing a pair of pale legs dangling over the edge and into the water. Grabbing onto the ledge with one arm, Rose wiped water and a few loose hairs out of her eyes with her free hand and looked up at the redheaded woman sitting with her trousers rolled up to her knees at the pool’s edge.

“Hi there,” said Donna, looking down at Rose. 

“Hello,” Rose answered. “Feeling better?” Donna nodded. “Did the Doctor send you in here after me?” Rose queried. Donna shook her head and studied Rose for a moment.

“Nah,” she said at last, with a slight smile, “It’s just I hear I’ve got you to thank for my memories, so I thought I’d stop by and say thank you.” Rose grimaced.

“Yeah well. It shouldn’t have been necessary. But I’m glad you’re here. The Doctor’s an idiot.”

“Yeah,” Donna agreed, “but his hearts are in the right place.” She nudged Rose’s shoulder with her leg. Rose snorted and shook her head, pushing herself up on her arms and out of the pool to sit next to Donna. They gazed out across the pool’s stilling water together. “Don’t get me wrong,” Donna continued, “I’m right cross with him for what he did. Not surprised, though. He’s not great at thinking things through to the end, you know?”

 “You’re telling me,” Rose groused.

“Thing is…” Donna hesitated and Rose glanced at her, watching the woman try to arrange her thoughts. “Thing is, as overwhelming as the past few days have been for us, only imagine how much more so they must’ve been for him, you know? Loneliest man in the universe, him. Tying himself to our short little lives, and then cutting us free before it hurts too much. He’s so used to letting everyone go. And then all of a sudden, there we all are: Jack, Sarah Jane, Harriet Jones, Martha… and then there’s _you_. You, who saved him from himself, who he well and truly believed he’d lost forever. So there he is, surrounded by all of these people he thought he’d never see again, capped off by the bloody love of his life--” Rose made a sound of dissent and Donna glared at her briefly. “I know you don’t believe it right now, but trust me, you are. Never shut up about you, that one. From what I’m told, that’s pretty unprecedented when it comes to the Doctor.” Rose shrugged noncommittally, and Donna continued.

“Anyway, there we all are, bloody family reunion, right? And then Davros pulls out that line about the Doctor making us all into weapons and suddenly all of the worst things he’s ever believed about himself are true. All of these people, they went on to have lives without him, and somehow in those lives they’ve all ended up willing to do the one thing he’s never forgiven himself for: they’re ready to sacrifice their world to save the universe.” 

“And then, just as suddenly as it’s started, it’s all over, and the walls between the universes are closing again, and he’s got to get everyone home and I think he just _panicked_ , honestly. Suddenly there’s this other _him_ , who is everything he wished he could give you and never could, and who he needs to do _something_ with, and… I guess in the moment it just seemed like the perfect solution: give you the ending he thought you would want, and give himself the punishment he thought he deserved. He turned the people he loved into weapons, and so he had to lose them again.”

“I’m not saying that what he did, leaving you in that other world, was okay. I’m just saying… don’t let it change your opinion of him too much, yeah? He thinks he’s ruined the lives of everyone he’s ever travelled with. I don’t think he could bear to do that to you, too.”

“But he almost DID, though,” Rose broke in. “He left me there to watch everyone I love die, because he was so sure that he knew what was best he didn’t even bother to ASK me.”

“I know,” said Donna quietly, “he told me. He’s a right mess about it, believe me. And he’s a complete idiot to boot - trust me, I get it.” She pondered for a moment, gazing off at nothing. “Sometimes I think those genius Time Lord brains of his have left him a bit addled when it comes to actually acting like a person.”

“Sometimes?” asked Rose, sardonically.

“Yeah well,” Donna laughed. “I’m not saying you have to forgive him right this minute. I’m just saying try not to be too hard on him. He loves you. He wanted you to be safe, and happy. He went about it in the stupidest possible way, sure… but he wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

“He never is,” Rose said sadly, looking down at her own feet, distorted by the water. Donna nodded, then patted Rose on her damp back and heaved herself up from the pool’s edge.

“WELL,” she announced as she rolled her trouser legs back down to their proper length. “The Doctor’s just dropped off our newly-christened John Smith in Glasgow, and I wanted to stop in and chat before heading out.” Rose looked at her, startled.

“Heading out?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Donna said, “Thought I’d go spend a bit of time with my Grandad and Mum. Now that the Doctor has checked me over in the med bay and I’ve got the all clear, I feel like I owe them a bit of a visit before I run off into time and space again. Everything happened so fast, they’ve barely had time to process. Anyway, you two need some time to figure things out. Don’t much fancy sticking around for that bit, thanks. Suspect there’ll be a lot of screaming. Or shagging… possibly both.” Donna grinned, and Rose couldn’t help but laugh. As Donna made her way out of the pool room, Rose turned and called after her.

“Donna?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks.”

Donna nodded and gave another half smile before walking away.

*******************

After her conversation with Donna, Rose headed back to her room and into her ensuite for a long, hot shower. Despite the Doctor’s long ago assurances that pools had moved past such medieval chemicals as chlorine for water purification (“Honestly Rose, chlorine? Why not just fill the pool with rat poison?”) she still felt the need to give herself a thorough scrub after a swim.

As she rinsed the suds from her freshly shampooed hair, she thought over Donna’s words. She understood where the woman was coming from, but she still just wasn’t sure she was able to trust the Doctor. He’d made so many decisions “for her own good” over the years that it was hard to see her abandonment on the beach as a singular event rather than the last in a long line of times he’d taken away her right to make her own choices. And yet, what options did she have? She still loved him, despite everything. And she didn’t really have anywhere else to go. She could always join Jack at Torchwood, she supposed, but honestly even the thought of leaving the TARDIS again made her heart clench uncomfortably. No, this was going to have to be worked through, one way or another.

Sighing, Rose toweled off and searched for a pair of pajamas, finally settling on a pair of grey sweats and a soft pink tee shirt. She was exhausted after her swim, and more than ready to turn in. However, she didn’t think she should go to bed without talking to the Doctor at least briefly. Otherwise, she suspected, he would stew in his own self loathing all night, and any discussions they needed to have tomorrow would be even worse.

Padding down the hall, Rose made her way to the console room, savoring the feeling of the cool metal grates under her bare feet. As expected, she found the Doctor there. He was standing by the monitor, but his hands were gripping the edge of the console and his gaze was unfocused.  

“Doctor?” Rose asked hesitantly.

 “Rose!” the Doctor responded with a start, looking up at her, picking his hands up and putting them back down again after a moment, looking a bit lost. He looked at her ensemble. “Heading to bed, then?” he asked, a forced lightheartedness in his voice.

“Yeah,” Rose responded. “Look, Doctor…” His eyes met hers, and she could see fear and pleading in them. She sighed and walked over to him, resting her hands gently on his arms.

“Doctor, we’re gonna be alright, yeah?” she stated, looking up at him.

“Are we?” he asked, meeting her eyes, all false enthusiasm drained from his voice.

“Yeah.” Her voice was soft but firm. “We’ve still got a lot to talk about, and it’s going to take some time, but we’re gonna be alright. I’m not leaving you.” Gently, she removed her hands from his arms and wrapped them around his waist. He closed his eyes and nodded, and with a shuddering breath, wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in under his chin.

“I missed you so much,” he whispered into her hair. A tear trickled down her cheek and onto his familiar brown striped jacket. She squeezed him more tightly for a moment.

“I know,” she murmured, “me too.” With one last deep breath, she released him. “Goodnight, Doctor.”

“Goodnight, Rose.” His hands meandered once again to his trouser pockets as he watched her go.

*******************


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor takes Rose someplace quiet. Rose admits her fears. The Doctor thinks of a way to ease them.

**Chapter 5**

When Rose woke the next morning (“morning” being a relative term on the TARDIS, but the Doctor had maintained his habit of keeping the internal systems on a 24-hour cycle to suit his ongoing rotation of human companions) she could feel a physical weight in her chest. This was the first day that she and the Doctor would be alone together since before Canary Wharf. This was the day that they had to Talk. Part of her wanted to just skip it, to waltz into the console room like she’d never left, pretending everything was fine, and jet off on the next adventure as though no time had passed. Take the Doctor’s hand and run, sprinting away from the waiting and the hurt and the words that had been said and the ones that hadn’t. It was so tempting, to pack her feelings away and step into her old life, hiding her scars, playing at the naive teenaged shopgirl from the Estates that she sometimes missed being so badly it ached. She allowed herself to pretend for just a moment. That path would be so easy at first, but it would eventually break her. No, talking had to happen, and sooner rather than later, before she lost her nerve.

Rose dressed herself in jeans, a plain black hoodie, and trainers before meandering to the galley to make herself tea and toast. She nibbled at her food and sipped her tea slowly, drawing out her solitary breakfast for as long as she could manage before sighing, placing her dishes in the sink, and heading to the console room. The Doctor was ensconced under the console as she’d seen him a thousand times before, poking at wires which occasionally sparked at him. Rose had long held the suspicion that these sessions of “repair work” were completely unnecessary to the function of the time ship, rather serving as a way for the Doctor to hide from his companions, the world, and himself.

Hearing her footsteps, the Doctor pulled himself out of his hiding place and up to his feet. “Good morning,” he greeted her awkwardly.

“Morning,” Rose replied uncomfortably. She wasn’t entirely sure how to start this. To her surprise, however, the Doctor broached the subject before she could.

“I know we need to, ah, discuss some things. That is to say, I know you have things you want to say to me. And I want you to. But I…” he paused, rubbing the back of his neck, “I’m not very good at just sitting still and having a conversation, to be honest,” he continued sheepishly. “I’ve sort of made a practice of avoiding those sorts of things, when possible.” Rose raised an eyebrow at him, but resisted the urge to say something biting in response. The Doctor soldiered on. “Anyway, I thought maybe I’d… take us somewhere? To talk? If you want?”

Rose eyed him thoughtfully. “What did you have in mind?” she asked.

“Can I show you?” he asked hopefully. She paused for a moment and then nodded. With a relieved half smile, the Doctor began moving around the console again, pushing buttons and pulling levers while the TARDIS wheezed and shook, until it finally jostled to a stop. The Doctor double checked the view screen and then jogged down the ramp to the doors, opening them and peering out before heaving a breath of relief and gesturing for Rose to follow him.

Rose exited the TARDIS and gasped at the view before her. They were in the middle of a large clearing in what seemed to be a pine forest. The ground was covered in pristine, glittering white snow. The trees were dark silhouettes against the most spectacular sky she’d ever seen. Above her spread a blanket of pitch black, littered with millions of sparkling stars. The black was cut through by a spectacular swath of purple, magenta, green, and blue, wavering slowly across the sky.

“Oh, it’s beautiful,” Rose marveled. “These are the Northern Lights, yeah? I’ve never seen them in person before. Where and when are we?”

“Alaska, United States, Earth, the year 2014,” the Doctor responded, smiling up at the sky. “I’ve expanded the TARDIS’s environmental shields a bit, so as long as we don’t wander too far, the cold shouldn’t bother us.”

“Why here?” Rose asked, tearing her eyes from the spectacular light display to look at him.

“I uh… I thought it might be easier to talk if we had a bit of, I dunno, something else to focus on?” the Doctor sounded uncertain. “Is that alright?”

“Yeah, s’perfect,” Rose responded.

“Great. Good. Well, uh…” the Doctor fidgeted for a moment and then removed his long coat and spread it across the snow, just as he had once spread it across the apple grass of New Earth on a day that felt like lifetimes ago, although it was only a few years past in each of their personal timelines, and billions of years in the future in the life of the universe. He looked at Rose with uncertainty, and after a moment she sat down on one side and then laid back, her blonde hair spreading around her face, gazing toward the luminescent sky. The Doctor hesitated, until Rose reached out a hand and patted the open stretch of coat next to her. With a sigh, he settled himself beside her, his long body next to hers, but far enough away so as not to touch her. They laid there in silence as the moments ticked by, focusing on the whorls of color above them. It felt strange not to be holding hands. The only sound was the quiet whisper of a gentle wind through the pine trees, carrying the smells of sap and ice, reminding Rose of Christmas and filling her with a bittersweet longing. Finally, just as the Doctor began to wonder if perhaps his companion had fallen asleep, Rose began to speak.

“I don’t really know where to start,” she admitted. “I have so much I want to say to you. So many things to ask. It’s been so many years, and I finally got back to you and it all went so ridiculously wrong that I don’t even know where to begin.” She sighed. The Doctor stayed quiet, waiting. 

“It’s like this,” she said, finally. “From the minute I met you, I trusted you with my life. I don’t know why, I just… did. You know? You grabbed my hand and you told me to run and my whole world turned upside down. All there was was you.” She paused, breathing deeply before continuing. “You were so brave, and so noble, and so… I dunno. You were 900 years old and the last of your kind, and you carried the weight of the universe on your shoulders, and you seemed so SURE of things all the time, and yet somehow so vulnerable, too. And I was so lost, and I wanted to be a part of that. I wanted to be a part of something bigger. And I wanted to take care of you.”

“I didn’t think you were infallible or anything. I saw you mess up, make mistakes. There were times where I was right and you wouldn’t listen, like with the Gelf, yeah? So it wasn’t like I thought you could never be wrong. I pushed back when I thought I should, and sometimes I got it wrong, and sometimes I got it right, and sure I messed up a couple times but mostly it felt like you respected me, you know? I thought you believed in me, saw me as an equal. Maybe that’s silly, the idea that you’d ever see me as more than a child. But it felt like it.”

“But then when it came down to it, when it really came down to the hard decisions… suddenly my opinion didn’t matter. What I wanted didn’t matter to you, not at all. You told me I could spend my whole life with you and I promised you forever, but you sent me away or left me behind over and over again. Satellite 5, France, Krop Tor, Canary Wharf… you made those decisions about what you thought was best for me or for the universe, what you thought was the only way, and you treated me like… I don’t even know. Like I was so much less than you. Like I could never possibly understand to make my own decisions. Like I was too stupid to be trusted to know what I want, or too selfish to put the universe before myself.” She sighed again, contemplating the shimmering aurora and the sea of stars, so many of which she’d been to, so many of which she hadn’t yet.

“While I was in Pete’s World, I pushed all that down. I told myself that it wasn’t really like that. I loved you so much, and I convinced myself that you loved me too. I knew you almost said it at Bad Wolf Bay, and I let myself believe… so I fought my way back. To you. I thought you needed me. I thought… and you were so happy to see me, I thought I’d never seen you smile like that before. But then before we even had a chance to talk about ANY of it, you dropped me off in another universe like I was nothing. After all that time, and all that work, after I finally knew that my forever could match your forever, you didn’t even give me a chance. You just decided. And you left me. You didn’t even ask me, and you left me to die alone and if it hadn’t been for Mickey not trusting you and slipping me that dimension hopper, you never even would have known.”

“So now I don’t know what to do, Doctor. I love you so, so much. All I’ve thought about for years is getting back to you. And now I’m here and I’m not even sure if I can trust you. And the thing is, I’m not even sure if it matters, because I don’t really have anywhere else to go. I’m sure Jack would find me a place at Torchwood if I asked, but I’ve already lived that life, and it was nothing compared to what you and I had. I don’t think I could do it again. But if I stay, I’ll never truly know if it’s because you want me here, or if it’s because you feel responsible for me, for the fact that I came back, and for the fact that I’m going to outlive everyone I’ve ever loved but you and Jack.”

As suddenly as the torrent of words had started, they stopped. Rose’s chest shook slightly as she attempted to breathe evenly, waiting for a response from the Doctor while still staring resolutely at the sky, unable to bring herself to look at him. No response came, however. They continued to lay there in silence, Rose running through everything she’d said over and over again in her head, her nerves increasingly on edge, until she finally braced herself and turned her head towards his. To her shock, Rose saw that the Doctor had his eyes squeezed shut, tears running down the sides of his face towards his ears.

“Doctor?” She asked him, her concern for him outweighing her uncertainty and pain. She’d never seen the Doctor cry, not in all the time they’d travelled together. It was unnerving. The Doctor rasped in a shuddering breath and rubbed one hand down his face. Then he sat up, turning so that his back was to her. His arms wrapped around his knees and his back slumped, his face sagging toward the snowy ground.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered brokenly into the darkness. “All I ever wanted was to keep you safe.” If it hadn’t been so silent, Rose wasn’t certain she would have heard him at all. She sat up slowly and hesitantly placed a hand on his shoulder. After a moment, one of his hands came up to cover it, gripping tightly. “Rose Tyler,” he sighed sadly. “I don’t know how to explain how much you mean to me. I don’t think I have the words.” He squeezed her hand and tipped his head back toward the sky. “I’m a bit of an idiot when it comes to you, I’m afraid. I don’t know how to fix that. I wish there were something magic that I could say that would make this better. I wish I could go back and undo the hurt. But I can’t. And I don’t know what I could possibly say that would make you believe me.”

Rose sighed and slipped her hand out from beneath his, turning on the ground until they were back to back. She leaned against him and tipped her head back until it met his.

“I don’t know either,” she admitted quietly. They sat in silence, contemplating the stars. After awhile, Rose slid her hand back along the coat until her fingers found his and laced them together on the ground. Hand in hand, they pondered the heavens, watching the stars and lights move across the sky in an unending dance. At last, as her limbs began to go numb, Rose untangled herself, rubbing feeling back into her legs and hoisting herself to her feet.

“Come on,” she sighed, holding her hand out to the Doctor. “Let’s go in.” He closed his eyes briefly and nodded before reaching up to take her proffered hand. Rising, he pulled her in for a brief hug before stepping back and collecting his coat. Hand in hand, they returned to the TARDIS.

*******************

After that, the Doctor and Rose fell into a sort of careful coexistence on the TARDIS. Without them ever quite discussing it, the Doctor piloted them into the Time Vortex and they stayed there, floating in time, taking a sort of unofficial breather from the universe. They orbited each other within the ship, navigating carefully around one another, generally staying close, occasionally brushing but never colliding. They sat in the library and read together, her curled on the sofa, him in a nearby armchair. He tinkered under the console while she sat on the jump seat and sketched. Sometimes they meandered in the greenhouse, the Doctor rambling about the various plants and their origins; Rose half listening while breathing in the warm, fragrant air. Once or twice they watched a movie on an old reel to reel projector that Rose found in a dusty room down a corridor she hadn’t explored before. Nothing was said about their conversation in Alaska, or about where things would go from here.

It had been just under a week when the Doctor came to find Rose in her bedroom. She was sitting propped against her headboard, flipping through a magazine, having left the Doctor under the console, pottering away at some “repair” or other. He knocked softly on her open door before entering, and she looked up at him hovering awkwardly near the foot of her bed.

“Hello,” she greeted him with a soft smile.

“Hello,” he answered her, returning her smile, but with slightly more uncertainty than he’d been exhibiting over the past few days.

“What’s up?” She asked him. “Do you want to sit down?” He moved over and sat at the end of the bed, his feet staying on the floor, and looked at her.

“I had an idea,” he told her.

“Okay?”

“It’s um… to do with what we discussed the other night. On Earth.” He looked nervous.

“...Okay…”

“I said I didn’t have words to tell you what you mean to me. But I think… I thought maybe I could show you?” He looked exceptionally nervous now, and Rose raised her eyebrows at him, glancing at the bed questioningly. “OH!” he exclaimed, blushing. “No, nonono, not like that. I meant… I could...” he turned to face her, scooting closer across the bedspread and crossing his legs. Then he raised his hands toward her temples, a question in his eyes. Her face relaxing in understanding, she considered for a moment and then nodded.

“Yeah, okay.” She imitated his stance, crossing her legs so that their knees touched and settling her hands on her thighs. He exhaled in relief and moved his hands to her temples.

“Okay. Right. So I’m just going to try to send you some thoughts. I’m not going to come into your mind at all other than to share, alright? I won’t look at anything.” She nodded. “Okay, just relax,” he instructed, “and close your eyes.”

Rose closed her eyes and focused on the feel of the Doctor’s gentle fingertips on her temples. At first, nothing happened. Then she felt a gentle nudge at the edge of her consciousness, a slight pressure in the dark.

“Oh!” she gasped in surprise.

“Shh, it’s okay. Breathe. It’s just me,” he reassured her. Rose breathed slowly and tried to think welcoming thoughts at the odd presence. As she relaxed, she could feel a warmth seeping into her mind. Then, suddenly, it was like she was seeing through someone else’s eyes, watching a projection like the ones they’d so recently shared in the disused screening room. Scenes began to flash before her eyes, one after the other.

 

  _“_ _I can see everything. All that is. All that was. All that ever could be.”_ A look of awe and adoration in a pair of crystalline blue eyes.

 _“That's what I see, all the time. And doesn't it drive you mad?”_ And then a kiss, reverent and soft, and yet full of so much love and trust.

 

 _“I've seen fake gods and bad gods and demi gods and would-be gods; out of all that, out of that whole pantheon, if I believe in one thing... just one thing... I believe in her.”_ His face glowing with fire and faith, facing off against a creature from hell.

 

 _“They took her face, and just chucked her out and left her in the street. And as a result, that makes things... simple. Very, very simple. Do you know why? Because now, Detective Inspector Bishop, there is no power on this earth that can stop me!”_ A being who was suddenly believably not of this world, full of rage, power, and a willingness to destroy anyone and anything that would dare take Rose Tyler away from him.

 

The Doctor with his cheek and hands pressed against a white wall, face streaked with tears, eyes wide with shock.

 

The Doctor standing alone in the TARDIS, crying silently and staring at the space where he’d just missed his chance to say goodbye.

 

Donna, standing outside the TARDIS in a wedding dress. _“That friend of yours, what was her name?”_ _  
_ _“Her name was Rose.”_

 

A withered face, taunting him. _“But your heart grows cold / The north wind blows / And carries down the distant... Rose?”_ _  
_ _“Oooh, big mistake! Because that name keeps me fighting!”_

 

The two of them, lying side my side on the apple grass of New Earth, laughing. Their hands entwined as they ran. Dancing around the console while Captain Jack looked on. Scene after scene, all of them telling a story of trust, faith, awe, devotion, and so, so much love. As she watched the scenes fly by, Rose could feel it in every pore of her body, burning and bright and desperate, love and need and terror that this one thing, this one thing that had made him whole again, had made him fight when he thought he could never fight again, would be destroyed.

 

Rose’s eyes shot open as the images faded away and the Doctor slowly lowered his hands from her temples to her cheeks, wiping the tears she hadn’t realized she’d shed from her face before dropping them uncertainly to his lap. His eyes focused on hers, filled with longing and worry.

She clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to hold back a sob. “Doctor,” she whispered through her fingers. And then she’d pulled him to her and their mouths were smashing together, her arms weaving behind his neck, his hands tangling in her hair and then wrapping around her waist as they tried to move closer together over their tangled knees, lips and tongues and hands entwining, and this was nothing like the kiss with the Metacrisis on the beach, this was passion and forgiveness and need and want and forever, and he was whispering against her lips as they parted and came back together “I love you, I’m sorry, I love you, never again, never again” and she was crying and laughing and at some point they had fallen to their sides and they didn’t know when but eventually they just lay there, twined tightly around each other, exhausted and relieved and finally, finally whole. At some point, lying awkwardly sideways across her bed, him still in his suit, her in her pajamas, both of them still atop her bedspread, they fell together into a deep, dreamless sleep.     

  



	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Doctor makes Rose a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, folks! My final chapter! Thank you for joining me in my first foray into fanfic writing. I'll probably go back and tweak a few things in the first chapter to clean it up a bit, but overall I'm pretty happy with how this turned out. Thank you again for reading!

**Chapter 6**

Rose woke the next morning feeling slightly disoriented. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but she was curled under her blanket, her head on her pillow. Rubbing her eyes, she rolled over and was greeted by a view of long, pinstripe clad legs propping up a book.

“Oh! Good morning,” the Doctor greeted her cheerily, smiling down at her as he peered over the top of his glasses. 

“Morning,” Rose murmured sleepily, smiling back at him and humming happily. “Did you tuck me in again?” The Doctor looked sheepish.

“Well, we fell asleep a bit suddenly. When I woke up, we were a bit…” he gestured to indicate that they’d been sprawled diagonally across the bed. “I thought you might be a bit more comfortable if you were tucked in properly.”

“Mmmm, thanks,” Rose answered. “How long ago was that?”

“Four hours, twenty two minutes, twelve seconds,” the Doctor answered casually, marking his page and closing his book. He moved his hand to her, running his fingers through her hair as he pushed it behind her ear. Rose let out a contented sigh and snuggled closer to him.

“I’m surprised you stayed,” she told him. “I’d assume you’d get bored, waiting here for me to wake up.”

“Yes, well,” he answered, sounding slightly unsure. “I did get up for a moment to get a book, but I came straight back. I…” he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I didn’t think it would be very good if I weren’t here when you woke up, all things considered.”

“Ah.” Rose slid herself up in the bed so that she was sitting next to him, back pressed against the headboard. “Yeah, I s’pose you’re right. Thanks for that, then.” He smiled softly. 

“Are we okay?” he asked her hesitantly, turning slightly so that he could look at her more directly. She turned her head toward him, tilting it so that she could rest the side of it against the headboard, and studied his apprehensive face.

“Yeah, I think so,” she told him. “I mean… I’m glad I know how you feel, now. I’m still not happy about some of the ways you’ve handled things in the past but… I forgive you. And I get it, I do. I know you just wanted to protect me. It’s just… I can’t go back to living like that, yeah? I know you said never again, but I need to make sure that we’re on the same page as to what exactly that means.” She took one of his hands in hers and played with his fingers, looking down at their hands rather than at his face. “I love you, but I need to know that I can trust you. I need to know,  _ really _ know, that when it comes down to it you won’t push me away again just because you think it’s in my best interest.” 

The Doctor pondered this for a moment. Then suddenly, he snapped the fingers on his free hand and darted out of the bed, pulling his hand from Rose’s. “I have an idea!” he exclaimed as she looked up at him in surprise. Then, without further ado, he shot out of the room. Rose sat in her bed, staring at the door with a slightly dazed expression. That hadn’t been quite the reaction she anticipated to her statement, and she wasn’t awake enough yet for his sudden departure not to have left her feeling a bit discombobulated. However, before she had time to worry, he was back, carrying a pad of paper and a pen. 

“Okay!” he announced, settling himself back next to her on the bed and poising the pen over the pad. “What do you need me to do?”

“What?” Rose asked him, completely lost as to what was going on.

“To trust me. For this to work. What do you need me to do?” The Doctor looked at her expectantly. 

“...Oh. Okay. Sure.” Rose rubbed her hand over her eyes. “Tea?”

“To trust me you need tea?” the Doctor asked her, sounding amused. She shook her head at him exasperatedly.

“No, to DO this I need tea. This is not a ‘first thoughts upon waking up’ kind of activity.” The Doctor chuckled and tossed the pen and paper to the bed, kissing the rumpled top of her head. “Got it. Be right back.” Rose rubbed her hands down her face once more before swinging her feet out of her bed and shuffling to her ensuite to splash some cold water on her face and try to tame her bed head into something more presentable.

By the time the Doctor returned with her tea, Rose was feeling slightly more awake. However, the caffeine was still going to be necessary if she was going to make him a proper list of requirements. “Mmm, thanks,” she sighed gratefully as she accepted the mug from him and settled back onto her bed, crossing her legs. “Okay so, needs.”

“Needs,” the Doctor reiterated, picking up his pen and paper yet again and looking at her expectantly.

“Okay. So first of all, no making decisions that affect both of us without talking to me about it first.”

“No… making… unilateral… decisions. Got it.” the Doctor recited, scribbling. “But what if we’re in a dangerous situation and there isn’t time to have a full conversation?”

“If there isn’t time to talk it out, then I stick with you unless it’s putting your life or the lives of other people in direct danger for me to stay. I’m my own person, I get to decide for myself when I stay or when I go. Okay?” The Doctor sighed, but nodded, writing it down.

“Okay,” he acquiesced. “What else?”

“If I stay with you and something happens to me, no beating yourself up and blaming yourself for it,” Rose said firmly. The Doctor grimaced at her.

“Rose, I can’t control how I feel about--” 

Rose cut him off. “No. If it’s my decision whether I stay, anything that happens as a result is on me. That’s how this works. You don’t get to make all the choices, and you don’t get to take all the blame. We’re a team.” She glared at him and pointed at the paper. He sighed.

“FINE. We’re a team. I’ll do my best.” She grinned. 

“Good.”

“Next?”

“No playing hot and cold with me anymore. If we’re going to be together, I want us to be together. For real. No more withdrawing when you’re overwhelmed. You have to talk to me when you’re having doubts or struggling.”

“Talking and transparency. That’s… I can do that. Okay.” The Doctor smiled a little. “The ‘being together’ bit shouldn’t be a problem. Now that things are out in the open, I can’t really imagine going back. Don’t know if I could, honestly.” Rose grinned and ran a finger down his cheek. He closed his eyes and sighed, and then cleared his throat. “Ah. Yes. Anything else?”

Rose dropped her hand and looked at her lap. “Yeah. I know I promised you forever, but…” The Doctor’s eyebrows drew together as he looked at her, but he didn’t say anything, waiting for her to finish her thought. “I  _ want _ to give you my forever, Doctor, I really do. And I will, if I can. But that isn’t a get out of jail free card, yeah? It doesn’t give you an automatic pass if you mess up. It’s, how do I put this…” she scrunched her face up, and then snapped her fingers as it came to her. “Contingent. It’s contingent on your not going back to bad habits. I want to be with you, Doctor, so badly -- but I can’t, if you can’t stick to your word. Promises don’t do me any good if they get tossed to the wind the first time you think we’re in danger. So if you can’t keep your promises, then I’ll have to leave.” She chanced a glance up at him, biting her lower lip, but he seemed fully focused on the paper, taking down what she said. 

“Alright, here we are then. Rose’s rules for the Doctor.” He cleared his throat and held the paper up in front of his bespectacled face, studying it seriously. “Rule number one: No making unilateral decisions except in cases of life threatening peril to bystanders. Rule number two: No taking sole blame for team decisions. Rule number three: Talking and transparency are required. And finally, Rule number four: if the above rules are disregarded for any reason, Rose reserves the right to run off to Jack Harkness or wherever else she feels is appropriate.” Rose laughed and nodded. 

“Sounds about right, yeah. Shake on it?”

“Oh, I’ll do you one better.” The Doctor took his pen back up and narrated as he wrote. “I, the undersigned, do hereby agree to abide by the above rules throughout this and any other incarnations, on pain of losing that which is most important to me - the trust of one Rose Marion Tyler.” He carefully penned one final thing, and then handed the paper to Rose. Beneath the words he had dictated was a complex symbol made of circles and lines. Rose looked at it consideringly, and then up at him.

“Does that say ‘The Doctor’ in your language?” she asked him. He met her gaze and shook his head. 

“No,” he told her softly. “That’s my name. My true name, in Gallifreyan. It’s…” he paused for a moment, trying to find the best way to explain. “It’s the truest thing I have left. Names have power. Time Lords don’t share their true names lightly. Generally speaking, the only people who would know them would be the Time Lord’s family, and their spouse.” Rose’s eyebrows raised and the Doctor rushed to clarify: “writing it down isn’t the same as saying it aloud. I’m not committing you to anything, I promise. But I am trusting you with the most powerful thing I can. Does that make sense?” Rose’s expression softened, and she nodded, looking down at the paper again with new understanding of the promise she’d just been made, and then looking back at the Doctor, tears beginning to form in her eyes. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

The Doctor placed his hand behind her head and pulled it to his, resting their foreheads against one another. “I love you, Rose Tyler,” he said softly, “and I will do everything I can to be worthy of your forever.” She nodded against him and brought her hand to his cheek before slowly tilting her lips toward his. Softly, she kissed him before pulling him to her in a tight hug, nestling her face into his neck.

“I love you, my Doctor,” she told him, drawing back to once again look into his earnest brown eyes. He sighed and closed his eyes, pulling her back in to gently kiss her again, rubbing his thumbs over her cheeks, brushing away the escaped tears.

It wasn’t perfect. It would take time. But they would be okay.


End file.
